Richard Lutz sails through the flotsam of another lost week.

Yes, I know, I know. That headline above is a bona fide rip off. It was the title of a Murdoch expose by ex-MP Tom Watson. But it was so good…so good I had to borrow it.

Anyway, Rupert’s son James has had a major hissy fit, thrown his $2,100 LV Crafty Neverfull MM Vuitton bag out of the pram and said he’s quitting his father’s megalomaniac empire. This is due to disagreements “over editorial content.”

That’s rich. Really rich, as he joins the dole queue.

After all, 47 year old Jimbo was the News Corp boss who was in charge during the phone hacking and police bribery shenanigans at the cruddy News of the World and other august Murdoch publications.

His hacks stooped so low as to wiretap the mobile of teenage murder victim Milly Dowler to try to steal frantic messages from the girl’s family after she disappeared. They wiretapped the phones of the families of bombing victims, they snooped on calls to politicians, the Royal family and celebrities. They were sneaks, lowdown creeps, criminals and James was the boss.

But Little Jimmy, a mere executive chairman of the UK newspaper arm of the empire, said he didn’t know a thing about this ring of vipers. Shock news that. So, he was one  of two things: an inept boss who didn’t know about the crooks he hired. Or he did know what was going on and….and, well, I’ll leave that one to you. I’m sure he’s an innocent guy.

Speaking of billionaires, let me fast track to the little village of Strathcarrick on the west coast of Scotland. I have been filing breathless Covid updates for the summer from this harbour hamlet. I thought I had written my last account as lockdown ends. But last night in swoops a 47 metre ocean-going yacht originally built by Silicon Valley kingdog Jim Clarke. It costs £100,000 per week to lease. Hyperion is a giant (see below) and too big to fit into the calm grasp of the harbour. 

So it cast anchor about 200 metres offshore and the skipper used a launch to bring passengers to the quayside. There, a chauffeur picked everyone up plus their golf clubs for a quick round on the back nine before a five star slap-up meal at the local hootie-tootie hotel.

Onlookers from the nearby Harbour Cafe at The Harbour just looked on in awe. The motor launch was larger than most of the boats tied up at the quay. Old school Strathcarrickians had never seen the like.

“Last time we had such a visitor,” said Margaret McD “…was when Mr Trump showed up.”

“And before that, we think Brad Pitt was hanging around when he was making World War Z up in Glasgow,” added her grandson Ryan, leaning over from the next table on the windy verandah of The Harbour Cafe at The Harbour. “But then again,” he added quickly, “maybe it was just a guy who looked like him.”

Others googled Hyperion to find out more about the super yacht. And Bobby J promised to track its voyages via her impressive marine tracking app.

Daz, who spent years at the fishing before the industry dried up, was amazed at the size of the tender bringing the posh folks ashore. “It’s 35 foot. That’s bigger than Craig’s lobster boat.”

And that’s saying something here in Strathcarrick. Craig has a big boat.